


Insanity

by loeysxdaisies



Series: Downward Spiral [1]
Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Age Switch, I hope this doesn't suck??, M/M, Mafia!Chanyeol, Protective!Chanyeol, age gap, also a bit of best friend!sehun, college student!baekhyun, i love this au, like 4 years it's not bad, mafia, so here you go, so much
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-05
Updated: 2018-08-05
Packaged: 2019-06-22 02:03:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,814
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15571302
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/loeysxdaisies/pseuds/loeysxdaisies
Summary: Knowing everything he now did Baekhyun should have been scared, he should have flinched away, he should be running.He wasn’t.





	Insanity

**Author's Note:**

> I HAVE BEEN WANTING TO WRITE A MAFIA AU FOR LIKE 27 YEARS AND I FINALLY DID IT GO ME
> 
> also i realized that i keep writing these little word blob things between benefits chapters to give myself a little break and a chance to write a different au and this is really fun wow i love this whole writing thing!!! it's cool!!! (i promise i'm working hard on the next chap this is just to give myself a chance to not think about dramatic college boyfriends for like 5 mins)
> 
> *also i hope this doesn't suck it took me like 3 days bc i couldn't decide how fast i wanted things to happen sooooo*
> 
> p.s. baekhyun is 21 (in college) and chanyeol is 25 becuase let's be honest we're all at least a //little bit// of a slut for an age gap like this don't even lie

“When were you going to tell me?” Baekhyun crossed his arms and kept his eyes out the large window of the lavish office, refusing to turn around and face the man—the _monster_ —who had just entered the room.  “Were you even _going_ to tell me?”

“Darling—”

“Don’t you _‘darling’_ me.” Baekhyun bit his lip hard enough to reopen the cut in the corner and took a deep breath to steady himself. “Don’t you _dare_.”

Chanyeol stepped away from the door and towards his small boyfriend—ex-boyfriend? Maybe? He shook his head, that wasn’t a priority right now. He just needed to make sure Baekhyun was okay.

“Baekhyun—”

“Have you said _one_ true thing to me? How many other things have you lied about?”

“Do you want to know?”

Baekhyun shut his eyes trying, and failing, to will the lump in his throat down. “You just told me.”

Chanyeol sighed and took another step forward and now Baekhyun could see him in the reflection of the window. Chanyeol, with his once red hair that was now a sharp black and messy atop his head. Chanyeol, who looked impeccable in his suit probably worth thousands and yet so, so sad. Chanyeol, with a softness in his eyes that was only there when Baekhyun was. Chanyeol, who Baekhyun _still_ _loved_ despite everything he’d found out in the last ten hours.

God, he just wanted to throw himself out the window and fall all 20 stories down. Maybe the fall would kill him—it would be more painless than trying to deal with whatever _this_ was.

“Everything I ever did I did to keep you safe.” Chanyeol was right behind him now. Knowing everything he now did Baekhyun should have been scared, he should have flinched away, he should be running. He wasn’t.

“And yet here we are.” Baekhyun looked up and finally, _finally_ met Chanyeol’s eyes in the glass. It was late, Baekhyun wasn’t sure how late, but it was dark and it made Chanyeol’s eyes stand out even more through the reflection. “What do you have to say for yourself?”

“I was selfish.” Chanyeol shoved his hands in his pockets but didn’t move any closer, and part of Baekhyun was grateful for the space while the other part yearned to reach out, to wrap himself in Chanyeol’s arms and pretend none of this was happening. He swallowed and pushed that down, choosing to be angry instead. It was easier than shuffling through the rest of the shit going through his head.

“I shouldn’t have gone after you like I did, knowing how these things always turn out for people like me. But there you were, and you just, oh, Darling,” Baekhyun flinched then, the fond name striking a chord and bringing tears to his eyes, “you were mesmerizing, and then once I had you I couldn’t let you go.”

“I just—” Baekhyun broke off and cleared his throat when his voice cracked. He felt Chanyeol’s worried gaze on him but he wouldn’t meet his eyes again. “I don’t understand how you hid this from me. A _year_ , Chanyeol. How did I not notice? How was I so _stupid_ —” Baekhyun took a shaky breath and hung his head, tears blurring his vision.

Chanyeol stayed silent, a knife stabbing his heart with each of Baekhyun’s short breaths. Just two nights ago Chanyeol was the one wiping his tears from his cheeks, and now he was the _cause_ of them. That thought made him sick.

“But I guess that just explains everything, huh?” Baekhyun let out a sharp laugh. “The work emergencies. The trips. The phone calls you had to leave the room to take. The gifts. The email I got from the cashier’s office saying my tuition and debts had been paid through next year.” He took a slow, deep breath. “Why me?”

“I wanted something normal in my life. Something…sane. Something complacent. Constant. I wish now that it _wasn’t_ you, because you don’t deserve any of this.” Chanyeol took a final half step towards Baekhyun, and the small male could feel the body heat radiating on his back. “I thought I could balance both. I thought I was being careful—”

“Well, you weren’t.” Baekhyun snapped finally, head whipping up to meet Chanyeol’s eyes in the window and stepping away from him. “What the _fuck_ do you think that was like for me? Being drugged in my own _goddamn apartment_ and waking up who-fucking-knows where, _alone_ , and being told that my boyfriend is some fucking mafia boss and that I needed to give them information on something I know _nothing_ about.”

“I don’t know how they found you.” Chanyeol felt the anger he’d felt when he received that phone call well up in his chest, the anger and the hopelessness and the single thought of ‘ _I’m going to kill whoever lays a hand on him,’_ “And I’m so, _so_ sorry that I didn’t figure out what they had planned sooner.”

“That’s not what this is about, _Phoenix_.” Chanyeol closed his eyes and took a deep breath his codename sounding so _wrong_ coming out of Baekhyun’s mouth. “You _lied_ to me. For a year. And, god, I—I thought you _loved_ me.”

Chanyeol’s eyes flew open and he met Baekhyun’s tearful gaze through the window. “Don’t doubt for one second that I _ever_ lied about what I felt for you.”

“How?” Baekhyun averted his eyes again, “How am I supposed to assume that that’s the one thing you didn’t lie about? Our whole relationship is _built_ on _lies_ , Chanyeol! How am I supposed to trust you now?”

“You shouldn’t.” Before Chanyeol could say another word there was a sharp knock at the door. Chanyeol gave Baekhyun one final look before turning to the door and calling for the visitor to enter.

The coldness of his voice washed over Baekhyun in a tidal wave and he automatically curled in on himself. He had _never_ heard that tone from Chanyeol before and, suddenly, he _could_ see his boyfriend as a mafia leader. It all fell into place in his mind and Baekhyun clamped a hand over his mouth, trying not to cry, not in front of the stranger and _especially_ not in front of Chanyeol.

The two spoke tensely in hushed tones for a minute, and then the mysterious man stood attentively at the door while Chanyeol returned to Baekhyun who still had his back to the room.

“Baekhyun,” Chanyeol spoke calmly and evenly. “I _know_ that it’s been a day for you and that I’m probably the last person you want to be around right now,” Baekhyun scoffed but Chanyeol ignored the pang to his heart and kept going, “but you’re not safe.”

“No, really?” Baekhyun turned to the side and faced Chanyeol for the first time that night, arms crossed as he leaned against the window. He hoped he looked fairly confident, but he was really leaning because his legs had lost nearly all their strength, and he wasn’t about to show any sort of weakness in front of Chanyeol.

“You have every right to hate me, but I still love you.” Baekhyun closed his eyes, shielding himself against those words. That was the _last_ thing he wanted to hear. “And my priority is keeping you safe. You need to come home with me.”

“No.” Baekhyun fought back immediately. “No, I’m not going _anywhere_ with you.”

“I understand, I do. But Baekhyun, if you don’t come with me these guys _will_ come after you again.” Chanyeol reasoned. “I can’t let that happen.”

“It already happened.”

“You don’t have to look at me. You don’t have to talk to me, you don’t even have to acknowledge my existence.” Chanyeol sighed. “But _please_ come with me.”

Baekhyun took a breath and turned his head, studying his reflection in the window. He looked exhausted, and stressed, and downright terrified. For some reason, though, he wasn’t scared of Chanyeol. Everything he had done, everything Baekhyun had found out today, everyone Baekhyun had seen him _kill_ and he still trusted him.

He was an idiot.

“Don’t talk to me.” Baekhyun pushed past Chanyeol and picked his backpack up from where it had been thrown in one of the armchairs facing Chanyeol’s desk.

Chanyeol took a deep breath and adjusted his collar, fixing his hair in the window with another sigh and then turned on his heel toward his desk where he grabbed his keys, his overcoat, and his work bag. At the last minute, he pulled a gun out of the top right drawer and tucked it in a hidden holster on his belt and Baekhyun bit his lips, looking down at the ground.

He _hated_ seeing that god-awful weapon in Chanyeol’s hands—hands that had never been anything but gentle and loving with him. Hands he should never have seen handling a _gun_.

“Ready?” Chanyeol joined Baekhyun at the door, and the strange man pulled it open for them and stepped out into the hallway, gun in hand and ready.

“Don’t talk to me.” Baekhyun snapped and then walked out into the hallway, following the stranger.

Chanyeol locked his office door and brought up the rear, following the other two into the elevator, out the main door, and straight into his car that one of the lower members had fetched and had prepared right at the curb.

The drive back to Chanyeol’s penthouse was tense, to say the least. Baekhyun refused to look at him the whole ride, staring blankly out the window and watching the bright lights of downtown Seoul fly by in all their 2am glory, his backpack lying innocently at his feet.

Chanyeol flickered his eyes away from his…whatever Baekhyun was (they hadn’t broken up, but Chanyeol figured it wasn’t far off now) and back to the road, the image of Baekhyun’s bag reminding him of just what Baekhyun had had taken away from him.

Fuck, Baekhyun was in _college_. That backpack was filled with textbooks, a notebook, earbuds, and everything else any 21-year-old should have to worry about. Baekhyun’s biggest worry should be his GPA, _not_ getting kidnapped and held for ransom for his mafia boss boyfriend.

Chanyeol felt so, so guilty.

Baekhyun continued to avoid Chanyeol as they got out of the car and went up the elevator, only pausing once they entered the penthouse, just inside the elevator.

Chanyeol pushed past him and turned on a light in the kitchen, tossing his work bag and overcoat on a chair at the small breakfast table in the corner. He went to pull off his suit jacket, too, but when he did and noticed Baekhyun eyeing the gun uncomfortably he pulled it back on, watching Baekhyun’s shoulders relax a bit when the gun disappeared from his line of sight.

“I know you said not to talk to you,” Chanyeol held both his hands up in a position of surrender as he approached the student, “but can you follow me and I’ll show you to the guest room?” Normally when Baekhyun stayed over he wouldn’t even consider putting him in the guest room but things were different now.

Baekhyun _knew_.

Baekhyun nodded stiffly and followed Chanyeol up the stairs by the window, slowing down and looking out as he climbed. Chanyeol reached the landing before the younger male and leaned against the wall to wait for him, letting him take his time.

Baekhyun would get all the time he needed.

Finally, Baekhyun reached the landing and he impulsively opened his mouth to apologize and gush about how beautiful Seoul’s nightlife was but when his eyes landed on Chanyeol, namely Chanyeol’s new black hair, it all came rushing back to him and he cleared his throat, clamping his mouth shut again. Chanyeol gestured toward the far hallway with his head and Baekhyun followed him, passing and deliberately not looking at the short hallway with a single door, the one that led to the master bedroom.

Chanyeol’s— _their_ , back during the times when Baekhyun coming over to Chanyeol’s apartment was an everyday occurrence—bedroom.

Baekhyun sucked in a sharp breath and Chanyeol turned around, concern in his furrowed brows, but Baekhyun waved him off. Chanyeol stopped outside of the first door on the left in the hallway and pushed it open. He held his hand out, keeping Baekhyun from entering with a murmur of “wait here,” and walked in first, one hand on his gun as he checked over the room.

Baekhyun shook his head and leaned against the doorframe, watching his boyfriend’s—no, not his boyfriend. Just Chanyeol— _Chanyeol’s_ broad form move about the room, checking the closet and the bathroom and under the bed.

“Okay, you’re good.” Chanyeol watched as Baekhyun entered the foreign room slowly and gently laid his backpack on the bed, looking at Chanyeol once he drank his fill of the room.

“Shower’s in there, I’ll grab you some clothes and bring them back. I’ll send someone to your apartment tomorrow to grab your clothes and things and have them brought back here.” Chanyeol scratched the back of his head nervously. “You have free range of anything here, like usual. The kitchen, the living room, tv, piano, anything you need, it’s yours.”

Baekhyun blinked twice, and Chanyeol sighed. “You should shower and get some sleep. I’ll see you tomorrow.” Chanyeol walked out the door and pulled it quietly shut behind him. Baekhyun didn’t turn to watch him go.

By the time Baekhyun had finished showering and exited the bathroom, feeling slightly less stressed than he had half an hour ago, there was a stack of clothes lying at the foot of his bed. Baekhyun picked up the neatly folded sweatshirt and read the sticky note stuck to it.

            _All I have are my clothes—sorry. You’ll have your own tomorrow, I promise._

“Your promises mean _nothing_ ,” Baekhyun whispered bitterly, crumpling up the paper and tossing it in the small trash can in the corner of the room. Everything Chanyeol had ever said was a _lie_.

Every time he was traveling for work—had he been out _killing_ people? That’s how he made his money? Baekhyun owed half his wardrobe, his laptop, his _tuition_ to dead people?

Baekhyun lifted the sweatshirt and pulled it on, dropping his towel and pulling on a small pair of briefs and a pair of sweatpants. He was surrounded in Chanyeol’s scent, a scent which once brought him an overwhelming feeling of happiness and now just made him very, very confused.

He should _hate_ Chanyeol. Chanyeol had gotten him kidnapped, hurt, and would be the reason for his nightmares for _weeks_.

And yet, all he wanted to do was curl up and let Chanyeol cradle him, hold him and let him know that everything was going to be fine. He would wake up from whatever nightmare this was soon enough and everything would be okay.

As soon as Baekhyun’s head hit the pillow the stress of the day really caught up to him, when he felt how _cold_ and lonely he was in the large bed, and he couldn’t help but cry. Cries that turned into sobs and he buried his face in the pillow in an attempt to muffle the sounds, not wanting to worry Chanyeol and make him come in because Baekhyun was already so, so confused and seeing Chanyeol right now would only make things worse.

Eventually, Baekhyun ran out of tears, for he cried himself to pure exhaustion and he fell asleep scared, confused, and so, _so_ lonely.

 

* * *

 

Despite Baekhyun’s attempts, Chanyeol _had_ heard his cries, and it broke his heart to not go in there and take Baekhyun into his arms and just hold him. Instead, Chanyeol sat against the wall outside Baekhyun’s room, listening in case something happened and waiting for him to fall asleep. When he finally did Chanyeol sat there for a few more minutes, blinking his own tears out of his eyes with a continuous “I’m sorry, I’m so, so sorry” mouthed from his chapped lips and his gun held tightly in his right hand.

It was around half an hour later when Chanyeol stood up and walked quietly to his room. He showered slowly, standing still and letting the hot water wash away the wear and tear on his body until his skin was dry from the pressure. He dressed quickly and slipped out of his room and back to Baekhyun’s, cracking the door and looking in.

Baekhyun was curled into a tight ball in the middle of the bed, his face set in a tense look with his eyebrows furrowed adorably. Chanyeol forced down his habit of walking over and running his thumb between them to smooth them out. He debated grabbing another blanket but ultimately decided against it.

Baekhyun had told him to avoid him, and by entering his room…Chanyeol shook his head. He didn’t want to lose what little trust Baekhyun still held for him, if he held any at all.

Chanyeol tossed and turned in bed for a good hour and eventually just decided to get up. It wasn’t a big deal, he was used to sleepless nights, anyway. He snuck quietly downstairs and started the coffee pot, turning on the single light above the sink and leaving the rest of the open living room-kitchen in darkness. He poured himself a mug of the bitter, black liquid and sat down at the breakfast table, leaving his work bag in the adjacent chair and tracing his thumb around the rim of the mug, unable to get Baekhyun’s sobs out of his head.

 

* * *

 

Baekhyun woke with a start, gunshots and screams ringing in his ears. When Chanyeol and his men had entered the basement, guns drawn to save Baekhyun, well—Baekhyun had _never_ wanted to see someone die, and he had seen way too many.

Shakily, he climbed out of bed and padded softly out of his room and down the hall towards the stairs. He paused when he passed Chanyeol’s room and studied the closed door. Baekhyun physically grabbed the wall to keep going considering every fiber of his being was aching to go crawl in bed with the taller male—no matter his profession.

Baekhyun walked lightly down the steps, making almost no noise what so ever on the carpet until his bare feet stuck to the hardwood of the living space. He tiptoed across the room, not noticing Chanyeol seated at the breakfast table until he had already grabbed a glass from the cabinet and turned towards the fridge for some water.

Chanyeol sat there and watched Baekhyun move fluidly around his kitchen as though he lived there, and he practically had for a while, wondering if he should make his presence known. He didn’t want to scare Baekhyun, but he didn’t want to sit in the dark and watch him like some stalker, either.

He decided to speak up then as Baekhyun turned to make his way to the fridge. “Baekhyun.”

Baekhyun jumped and whirled around, dropping the glass as both of his hands flew defensively in front of him.

“It’s just me,” Chanyeol stayed sitting down at the table and Baekhyun let out a breath, hands resting on his shoulder as he closed his eyes and took a breath to calm down. “I didn’t mean to scare you.”

“ _Shit_ , you can’t do that.” Baekhyun took a couple more shaky breaths and then looked down at the shattered glass. “Damn it—sorry.”

“It’s just a glass.” Chanyeol stood up from his seat as Baekhyun crouched down and began carefully picking up the larger pieces. “Leave it.”

Baekhyun froze and looked up, watching as Chanyeol crossed the kitchen and pulled a broom out of the pantry. “I don’t want you hurting yourself.”

“Oh.” Baekhyun sat there for a moment until Chanyeol got closer when he stood up and walked towards the trash can on the other side of the kitchen. Once he got all the glass swept to the side Chanyeol got a new glass and filled it up with water, handing it off to the anxiously shifting male leaning on the other side of the counter. “Thank you.”

The thanks was stiff and Chanyeol nodded back, clenching his fist to keep from reaching further towards the student. He watched as Baekhyun avoided his eyes and looked back down at his glass and stepped back, turning and walking back to the table.

“I’m going to go back to bed.” The last thing Baekhyun wanted to do was reenter that painfully unfamiliar room, but sitting here, with Chanyeol, was _killing_ him. Chanyeol sat down at the table and watched Baekhyun walk shakily back up the stairs, his tiny frame outlined by the bright city lights beyond the window.

He looked so _small_.

He looked terrified.

Chanyeol could only hope he wasn’t terrified of _him_.

 

* * *

 

Baekhyun was a bit surprised to find a missing Chanyeol when he woke up the next morning. True to the mafia boss’ word, a couple of suitcases filled with Baekhyun’s clothes and things from his apartment were stacked to the side of the stairs, but Chanyeol himself was gone. In his place was the same man from his office the night before, sitting and reading at the dining room table.

“Um—hello?” Baekhyun ventured, tiptoeing across the wood and keeping a few feet between himself and the man as he entered the kitchen.

“Ah, good morning, Mr. Byun.” The man marked his page and stood up, facing Baekhyun and crossing his arms behind his back. “I’m Sehun. I’ve been tasked by Mr. Park to keep an eye on you while he is away.”

Away. _Killing people?_

“Oh.” Baekhyun nodded awkwardly and turned to the pantry, digging around for something to eat for a moment before he realized he couldn’t stomach anything anyway, so he left it empty-handed.

“You won’t even know I’m here,” Sehun promised. “Now that you’re awake, I’ll take your things up to your room. Excuse me.”

Baekhyun hovered behind the counter as he watched Sehun, nearly as tall as Chanyeol with black hair and sharp eyebrows, turn and walk towards the stairs where he picked up one suitcase in each hand and headed up to Baekhyun’s room.

In the end, Baekhyun poured himself a cup of coffee and nodded in passing to Sehun on his way back up to his room, where he was only able to drink half the cup before he felt like he was going to throw up. He abandoned the mug on the dresser and shuffled through his suitcases, pulling out everything he’d need for another shower.

Half the things in the suitcase were Chanyeol’s that he’d left behind purposefully for Baekhyun and he didn’t even realize that, out of habit, he grabbed one of Chanyeol’s sweaters to wear until he was getting dressed.

It calmed him, though, so he didn’t bother changing out of it.

“Sehun?” Baekhyun approached the man sitting at the table, reading again.

“Do you need something, Mr. Byun?” Sehun marked his page and stood up, folding his hands behind his back and cocking his head.

“Not really, just—where’s Chanyeol?”

“The office,” Sehun answered immediately. “He shouldn’t be home late.”

Baekhyun nodded. “Thank you.”

“Did you find everything you needed in your bags? I can send someone to your house if you’re missing anything.”

“No, no, that’s alright. I’ll be alright.” The words stung in Baekhyun’s throat.

“If you ne—”

“Oh, _god_ , I won’t be alright.” Baekhyun fell forward on the counter.

“Mr. Byun?” Sehun took a step towards the college student. “What is it?”

“It’s _everything_ , Sehun.” Baekhyun buried his face in his hands. “How the hell—I should feel _horrible_. He should make me _sick._ I should hate him, why don’t I? Why do I want him to come home when at the same time I don’t want to see him? I shouldn’t miss him—I’m so _confused_.”

Sehun stayed silent, watching Baekhyun’s breakdown with pitiful eyes.

“What am I supposed to feel? Why do I still love him?” Baekhyun wiped stubbornly at his eyes with his too-long sleeves.

“You had a scary day yesterday,” Sehun said sympathetically, “a lot happened. You learned a lot of stuff about someone important to you, of course, you’re going to feel lost.”

“But I don’t.” Baekhyun cried, fisting his hair. “I _don’t_ feel lost, or terrified. I _trust_ him, Sehun. He kills people, he lied to me for a year, but I want him. I don’t want to lose him, but this is—it’s too much.”

“Give yourself time to sort through what happened.” Sehun took a seat at the barstool across from where Baekhyun was standing on the other side of the counter. “Don’t rush yourself. Mr. Park understands—he wants to keep you safe above everything else. When I came over this morning, well, I’ve never heard him talk like that. He really loves you.”

“Then why did he lie?” Baekhyun’s voice cracked but he didn’t really care anymore. “Did he not trust me? Did he think I would hate him? _I_ love him—if he really believed that he would have told me.”

“The mafia isn’t exactly something one can easily slip into a dinner conversation,” Sehun commented gently. “He loves you, he was probably scared you were going to leave him.”

“I wouldn’t have.” Baekhyun was getting frustrated. “If he had just _told_ me.”

“It’s hard to take that risk,” Sehun sighed, “I would know. Just give yourself time to take in everything you’ve found out in the past day, then talk to him. Talk when you’re not mad—”

“That’s going to take a while.”

“And Mr. Park’s going to wait for you,” Sehun promised. He stood up and walked around the kitchen, “now, you haven’t eaten yet today. Want me to make you something? I’m a decent cook.”

“No, that’s okay.” Baekhyun shook his head. “I’m not hungry, I think I’m going to go lay down.”

“Let me know if you need anything.” Sehun pulled open the fridge and grabbed a water bottle for himself. “I’ll be down here, okay?”

With everything Baekhyun had going on in his head he didn’t think he’d be doing much sleeping. Turns out his brain is just full of surprises—he passed out the second his head hit the pillow.

 

* * *

 

“Welcome back, Mr. Park.”

“Hey, Sehun.” Chanyeol shrugged out of his suit jacket and tossed it on the couch in the living room. “I’m assuming everything was fine today since I didn’t get a call?”

“No problems, sir,” Sehun affirmed with a nod.

“Good.” Chanyeol rolled the sleeves of his dress shirt and wandered into the kitchen. “How’s Baekhyun?”

“He’s still a bit freaked.” Sehun decided not to mention his breakdown earlier, figuring it wasn’t his place to say anything. “He’s working on it, though.”

“I’d be worried about him is he _wasn’t_ freaked,” Chanyeol pulled open the pantry and peered around for something to eat, “has he had dinner?”

“He hasn’t eaten anything all day.”

“’All day?’” Chanyeol turned to look at Sehun who was fidgeting nervously in his spot.

“He said he was tired. He drank half a cup of coffee this morning, showered, and then went back to sleep.”

“I’ll make him something, see if he’ll eat.” Chanyeol hummed and closed the pantry. “Thanks for being here today, Sehun. I’ll see you tomorrow?”

“Yes, sir. Seven again?”

“Yes.”

“Goodnight, sir.” Sehun grabbed his coat and then he was out the door.

Chanyeol let out a breath. He knew Baekhyun would be having a hard time, but he really hoped it wouldn’t start affecting his health. Baekhyun was small enough as it was, he couldn’t afford to skip meals.

Unsure if Baekhyun was still asleep or not, Chanyeol decided to make something that could sit until the student woke up—peanut butter and jelly. An easy meal that Baekhyun often ate when he was too busy with studying to break for anything more, and Chanyeol had mastered the right amount of each condiment with the number of times he’d been over to Baekhyun’s apartment late at night and had to practically drag Baekhyun from his textbooks to eat something.

Chanyeol crept quietly up the stairs, plate in one hand and a glass of water in the other. He knocked lightly on the door to see if Baekhyun was up, but there was no sound on the other side, so Chanyeol opened the door slowly and snuck into the room.

Baekhyun was curled up in the middle of the large bed, much like he was last night, the white comforter pulled up and tucked tightly under his chin, one arm out over the top fisting the cover. The mafia boss couldn’t help when his heart swelled at the sight of one of his sweaters bunched up around Baekhyun’s wrist—he still had a chance. He hadn’t lost Baekhyun yet.

This time, Chanyeol left and came back with another blanket after he positioned the food on the nightstand and, as gently as he could, he draped the additional cover over Baekhyun’s small body.

Baekhyun relaxed a bit when the weight of the new blanket covered his shoulders, and Chanyeol couldn’t resist placing a light kiss on Baekhyun’s forehead.

“Take all the time you need,” Chanyeol whispered to the sleeping male. It might have been his imagination, but it seemed like Baekhyun shifted slightly toward the sound of his voice. “I’ll wait.”

 

* * *

 

Nothing noteworthy happened the next day either, according to Sehun, who told him that besides Baekhyun eating lunch everything was the same as the day before. Chanyeol thanked him and sent him home, then looked through the fridge for something to make for dinner.

Baekhyun didn’t make an appearance until Chanyeol had a stir-fry cooking on the stove, his small shadow passing over the living room as he made his way slowly down the stairs. Chanyeol glanced up and smiled softly before returning his attention to the dinner he was making.

“You’re home,” Baekhyun spoke quietly, and Chanyeol almost missed it over the frying vegetables in the pan.

“I didn’t want to work too late tonight.” Chanyeol left the pan and rinsed his hands in the sink. “Are you hungry?”

“Not really.” Baekhyun grabbed a glass and filled it up with water from the fridge.

“Baekhyun,” Chanyeol toweled his hands off. “You have to eat.”

“I ate lunch,” Baekhyun said. “I’m not that hungry now.”

“Please.” Chanyeol turned the stove off and grabbed two plates from the cabinet. “Just—just a little?”

Baekhyun paused for a second, sucking his bottom lip between his teeth before nodding slowly.

“Thank you.” Chanyeol divided the stir-fry onto two plates and placed the one with less on it in front of Baekhyun at the bar, then turned and sat down at the kitchen table. He kept an eye on Baekhyun as he ate and was pleasantly surprised when the student ate a little over half the food on his plate—more than Chanyeol was expecting.

When he was done Baekhyun dumped what was left of his food in the trash and rinsed his plate, setting it in the sink and then walking over to the table. He shoved his hands in his— _Chanyeol’s_ —sweatshirt pocket and shifted his weight around before clearing his throat.

“Everything okay?” Chanyeol asked, glancing up from the email he’d been answering on his laptop.

“Just—thank you for dinner. And for—and for last night. The sandwich. Thank you.”

“Of course, Baekhyun. Make sure you’re taking care of yourself, okay? Keep eating, and—oh, when do you find out the results of your finals?”

“Next week.” Baekhyun let out a frustrated breath and ran an anxious hand through his hair. “I _fucked up_ on my stat final, oh, _god_ , I’m such an _idiot_. And you know I can’t write for shit, so the free-response stuff on my literature exam—I’d rather _not_ find out my score.”

Chanyeol smiled. _His_ Baekhyun was still in there somewhere, complaining about his finals and worrying about his grades.

“I’m sure you did better than you think you did. You always do, right?”

“I guess.” Baekhyun groaned and looked at Chanyeol. He looked sheepish suddenly and hid his hands back in his sweatshirt pocket. “Anyway, uh, thanks for dinner and—and everything. I’m gonna, uh, go—go shower.”

Chanyeol’s smile dropped and he nodded. His Baekhyun was gone again. “Goodnight.”

 

* * *

 

Baekhyun began joining Chanyeol for dinner when he got home from work. Once Baekhyun heard him messing around in the kitchen he would come downstairs and drink a glass of water at the bar while Chanyeol cooked, and then he would eat there while Chanyeol continued eating at the table.

Until the third night.

When Chanyeol divided the noodle dish onto the two plates, Baekhyun stood up from the bar and walked over to the table. Chanyeol followed him and Baekhyun took a nervous breath.

“Can we—do you mind, if—can I—” Baekhyun took a breath and clasped his hands together. “Can I join you tonight? Here?”

“Of course.” Chanyeol set both plates down across from each other and they both sat down and began eating.

“How was work?” Baekhyun asked a couple minutes later before taking a drink of his water.

“Fine.” Chanyeol puffed a laugh. It felt strangely domestic—to be honest, it was psyching him out a little. “Hollywood makes it seem all sorts of glamorous, but all I do is paperwork. I sign off on things and sit in on meetings that the secondary tier run to glare at people.”

“For an intimidation factor, right?”

“Exactly.”

Baekhyun hummed, the corners of his mouth turned up ever so slightly. “Sounds boring.”

“It has its ups and downs, like any other job.”

“Except you kill people.” Baekhyun set his chopsticks down and took a drink, watching Chanyeol’s face for a reaction.

“Not as often as you think I do.” Chanyeol set his chopsticks down and leaned on his elbows on the edge of the table. “Like I said, Hollywood makes it more glamorous than it is. Killing people isn’t something I do on a daily basis unless something major happens.”

 _I killed three people today._ Chanyeol figured that wasn’t something he should mention.

“Like what happened to me.”

“Like what happened to you.” Chanyeol nodded. “I didn’t hesitate that day because my priority was getting you out of there.”

Baekhyun nodded. “Well, thanks, I guess.”

Chanyeol chuckled. “You’re welcome, I think.”

“Anyway,” Baekhyun cleared his throat and stood up. “I’m going to shower and go to bed.”

“I’ll see you tomorrow.” Chanyeol stood up and took Baekhyun’s plate before he could walk over to the sink. “I got it, go take a shower.”

Baekhyun nodded and took a step back, his fingers skirting on the edge of the plate to avoid Chanyeol’s as he handed off the dish. “Goodnight.”

 

* * *

 

“You know, he could just tell me now,” Baekhyun grumbled, settling on the couch with a blanket around his shoulders. “I know all the mafia bullshit. ‘Work emergency.’ What a joke.”

“It’s probably easier than trying to explain whatever he’s having to deal with right now. You never know. He may have gotten pulled into a long meeting or something.”

“’Or something.’” Baekhyun echoed uneasily.

“Relax. Mr. Park will be fine, he always is.” Sehun flipped through the dvd cabinet. “Now, Iron Man or Black Panther?”

“Black Panther.” Sehun had become something of a friend to Baekhyun. He’d finally gotten him to stop calling him ‘Mr. Byun’ when he found out that Sehun was older than him—25, Chanyeol’s age. Being the only real person Baekhyun had any contact with, and having had a full mental breakdown in front of him in the first five minutes of talking, they’d gotten pretty close pretty fast. “What do you think’s holding him up?”

“It could be any number of things.” Sehun put the dvd in the player and walked over to the couch next to the one Baekhyun was on and sat down by the armrest so their heads were close together. He pulled his gun out of the holster and set it on the side table. Baekhyun had been around so many guns the past couple days that the sight didn’t faze him anymore. “It’s not like in the movies where he’s always out running around and waving his gun in the air. He’s probably on a call or trapped in another meeting. Popcorn?”

Baekhyun took one of the two bowls and placed it in the perfectly sized little corner the angle of his hips made, between his stomach and thighs and cushioned by the blanket.

“When did you join?” Baekhyun asked while Sehun fiddled with the remote, skipping through the commercials.

“I was, let me think,” Sehun paused and tapped the remote against his chin, “17? Mr. Park wasn’t boss yet—that was when his father still ruled the mafia. I was poor, living off the streets and I pickpocketed the wrong guy—Mr. Park senior’s second hand. The guy was impressed and took me in. I was sworn in the week after Mr. Park took over.”

Baekhyun nodded and popped a piece of popcorn into his mouth.

“They’re not as bad as people make them out to be.” Sehun murmured as he navigated through the main menu and pressed play. “A lot of those people are like me—bad kid in a bad situation who got a break.” He set the remote down and met Baekhyun’s eyes. “I would’ve been a fool not to take the deal.”

Baekhyun swallowed awkwardly and faced the large tv, taking another bite.

Sehun chuckled breathily when he glanced over at the student halfway through the movie and saw Baekhyun asleep, head situated on the armrest and nearly empty bowl on the floor.

Chanyeol got home ten minutes before the end of the movie. Sehun was going to ask if he could stay and watch the end, but he stood up in a hurry when he saw just how much blood was all over Chanyeol’s suit.

“Mr. Park—”

“Sh.” Chanyeol held up a single hand and glanced at Baekhyun, still sleeping soundly on the couch. “Upstairs.”

Sehun obediently followed Chanyeol upstairs, slipping his gun in his holster and standing attentively at Chanyeol’s door while his boss pulled off his suit jacket and unbuttoned the white shirt underneath, grimacing at the blood that seeped on his fingers when he did.

“What happened?” Sehun asked as his boss undressed.

“We’re trying to get to the bottom of who took Baekhyun,” Chanyeol grunted as he shoved his pants down his legs, leaving trails of dried blood on his lean legs, “I’m handling it personally.”

“You’re usually pretty clean.” Sehun pointed out.

“I’m sending the guy back as an example.” Chanyeol balled up what was left of his suit and pulled a garbage bag out of the top drawer of his dresser—they were kept there for this very reason—and shoved the suit inside. “No one _touches_ him and gets away with it.”

Chanyeol knotted the bag and handed it to Sehun. “Take this with you when you leave and burn it. Stay downstairs with Baekhyun, I need a shower.”

“Yes, sir. Should I take him to bed?”

“ _No_.” Chanyeol practically growled. “Don’t touch him. I’ll take care of him when I’m clean—I don’t want him seeing me like this.” He gestured to the blood still lingering on his torso.

“Of course, sir.” Sehun bowed his head and walked out of the room. He put the garbage bag down quietly next to his stuff and restarted the movie—it had ended while he was upstairs with Chanyeol and he wanted to keep the low noise level on so Baekhyun wouldn’t wake up and start asking questions he didn’t want to know the answers to.

He pulled his gun out and held it in his right hand, just in case.

Chanyeol padded softly down the stairs twenty minutes later, hair still damp and skin still flushed from his shower. He saw Sehun out and then walked over to the couch, standing and studying Baekhyun for a moment.

“Chanyeol?”

_Shit._

“I didn’t mean to wake you,” Chanyeol whispered, kneeling in front of the couch. He met Baekhyun’s lidded gaze, he was still half-asleep. “Do you want to go to bed?”

Baekhyun nodded and tugged the blanket tighter around himself. “Carry me?”

Chanyeol couldn’t help it when he smiled—Baekhyun _did_ still feel, well, _something_ for him. “Of course. Hold on.”

As carefully as he could, Chanyeol wormed his arms under Baekhyun—one under his knees and the other behind his back—and lifted. Baekhyun turned and angled his face into Chanyeol’s chest, and Chanyeol cradled him protectively.

He had killed those people for _him_ , for this perfect little human sleeping in his arms. He’d kill everyone if he had to. Anything to keep Baekhyun safe.

Chanyeol made his way slowly up the stairs, trying not to jostle Baekhyun, and laid him down gently in his bed. He covered him and stood there for a moment, watching as Baekhyun rolled around and got comfortable, the blanket from the living room still around his shoulders.

“Goodnight, Baekhyun.” He whispered when the student finally settled in, pressing another kiss to his forehead before leaving the room and shutting the door.

Then, instead of going to bed, Chanyeol went downstairs. Like the first night Baekhyun had been at his place he put on a pot of coffee and then sat down at the table, drinking it slowly in the darkness while Baekhyun slept.

He heard soft footsteps an hour or so later, and automatically he reached for the gun on the table and stood up, clicking the safety.

Baekhyun rounded the corner and his hands flew up when he saw Chanyeol’s stance. “It’s just me!”

“Shit, Baekhyun.” Chanyeol clicked the safety again and sat back down, letting out a tense breath when he did. “I thought—nevermind. Why are you up?”

“I couldn’t sleep.” Baekhyun pulled a glass out of the cabinet and filled it up with water.

“Is something wrong?”

“No. Well, not with me. I don’t think so—I don’t know.” Baekhyun admitted. He set his glass down on the bar and leaned against it, body facing Chanyeol’s silhouette backlit by the lights of downtown outside the large windows behind him.

“Do you need anything?”

“I have a question.”

Chanyeol sat up straighter and nodded for Baekhyun to continue.

“Did I dream you coming home covered in blood last night? Or, tonight, I guess.” Baekhyun asked, eyes on his glass.

“No.” Chanyeol was honest. Baekhyun had to respect that, at least.

“Are you okay?”

Chanyeol looked down at his mug to hide his smile. Baekhyun was worried about him? “I’m fine.”

“Did you kill someone?”

“I killed five people.” Chanyeol corrected. Now Baekhyun wished he wasn’t _so_ honest.

“Oh.” Baekhyun took a deep breath and looked up, locking eyes with Chanyeol across the dark kitchen. “Why?”

“They’re connected with the people who kidnapped you.”

“And you had to rip them apart limb from limb? That looked like a lot of blood, Chanyeol.”

“I know.” Chanyeol leaned back in his seat and let out a heavy breath. “I had their bodies sent back as a warning. No one touches you and gets away with it. _No one_.”

Baekhyun shook his head and dropped his gaze again. “God, this is—is this even real?”

“Sometimes I wish it wasn’t,” Chanyeol admitted with a bitter chuckle. “But it comes with its perks.” He gestured around his lavish apartment.

“You’re deranged.” Baekhyun looked up and glared at the mafia boss’ figure still seated in the chair at the table.

“I’ve been told.”

“You’re a monster.”

“I’m aware.”

“And I must be insane.” Baekhyun sighed and left his glass on the bar, walking around the edge of the counter to approach Chanyeol. “Because I still love you. Everything that’s happened and I still feel safest with you. You don’t scare me. You’re selfish, and it seems like I’m just suicidal because I don’t want to lose you.”

Chanyeol stood up from where he’d been sitting at the small breakfast table as Baekhyun approached him, holding his hand out. Baekhyun hesitated for a split second and then took it.

“You’ll keep me safe?” He traced his fingertips along the tattoos up his forearm before meeting Chanyeol’s eyes.

“I swear on my life,” Chanyeol cupped Baekhyun’s cheeks and rested his forehead against his boyfriend’s, “no one is going to touch you. _Ever_.”

“I trust you.” Baekhyun tilted his head up and caught Chanyeol’s lips in a kiss. He pulled back, whispered _“I love you,”_ and then kissed him again.

 

* * *

Epilogue

* * *

  

They had finally, _finally_ tracked down the last of the guys who had kidnapped Baekhyun those three long years ago. Chanyeol sat in his large chair at the head of the meeting table and looked over the plan outline, making comments and marking where there was a hole. All in all, it was a good plan. It would work.

Chanyeol, _The Phoenix_ , turned to the man standing by his chair, leaning on it and reading the plans over his shoulder. “What do you think, Darling?”

His husband smiled down at him—but it wasn’t that smile he once had back when he and Chanyeol first got together, it wasn’t so innocent. It was the smile of a man who had seen and caused death, of a man who now yearned for utter chaos. Well, chaos and Chanyeol.

Baekhyun, _The Light_ , hummed thoughtfully. “I think it’s safe to say that _we’ll_ be the ones handling the gun imports from China from now on.”

Chanyeol stacked the sheets together and laid them down on the table. “Gentlemen,” he stood up and the other leaders stood up as well, “do your parts. We move out in seven hours.”

The men all nodded, bowed to their two bosses, and left the room, leaving Chanyeol and Baekhyun alone.

“I’m sorry we had to postpone our trip.” Chanyeol took Baekhyun’s left hand and kissed his wedding ring.

“Just add another week in Monaco,” Baekhyun responded with a shrug and a small smile. He reached up to brush a piece of vibrant grey hair back where it had fallen out of Chanyeol’s style. “I’m _sure_ we can make do.”

“Whatever you want,” Chanyeol promised, pulling Baekhyun in for a light kiss. “Happy Anniversary, Darling. Let’s go kill these assholes who thought it would be a good idea to touch what’s _mine_.”

“Now, what are _we_ going to do for the next few hours?” Baekhyun asked thoughtfully, looking up at Chanyeol from beneath his eyelashes. Chanyeol glanced at his watch and then swiftly lifted his husband up onto the meeting table, stepping between his legs and smiling sinisterly.

“I’m sure we can figure something out.”

**Author's Note:**

> did it suck? fuck me i hope not bc i really like this au maybe i'll write more!!
> 
> also just clarification--the epilogue takes place 3 years after the main body of the one shot. at that point baekhyun and chanyeol are married, and baekhyun is a secondary leader of the mafia with chanyeol. we love crazy deranged boyfriends killing people together!! *wipes tear*
> 
> p.p.s. in the epilogue [this](https://www.pinterest.it/pin/574842339928380294/) is how i see chanyeol looking because this was a LOOK and i was looking up grey-haired chanyeol for you know scientific reasons and this picture fucking slayed meeeeeeee
> 
> damn ya girl was shook I AM A LOYAL SEHUN STAN *sobs in ot9*
> 
> anyway please leave kudos if you think this is worthy and comment! i love love l o v e talking to you guys it makes me the happiest <3<3
> 
> come say hi to me on twitter!! [loeysxdaisies](https://twitter.com/loeysxdaises)
> 
> curious cat for those of you shy little beans (i'd still love hear from you!) [curious cat](https://curiouscat.me/loeysxdaisies)


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